


Finders Keepers

by Veul_McLannon



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: #cheekyspon, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I absolutely intend them to be a couple after this, and indeed wrote them as a couple in gardens and Libraries ;), the garden is referenced but you don't have to have read G+L to get it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 19:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15126056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veul_McLannon/pseuds/Veul_McLannon
Summary: Tawneee is heartbroken after the termination of her relationship with Nobby Nobbs. Thankfully, Sally von Humpeding knows just the thing which might help. Who needs men, after all?





	Finders Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, I saw the opportunity for lesbians and ran with it. I mean, Sally is already /clearly/ batting for more than one team, so it’s not much of a stretch (not that that would stop me). Also, I feel it worth pointing out that I’m actually quite fond of Nobby, but it was rather necessary for Sally to loathe him.

Sally snarled and kicked the door of the room she rented at Mrs Cake’s. The frame juddered concerningly and there was a curious _CRACK_ noise from somewhere within the walls. She winced, backing away cautiously, hands spread placatingly towards the reproachful-looking wood; things in Ankh-Morpork just weren’t built the way they were in Uberwald, and she would do well to remember it. No point in bringing down the roof over her head for a girl.

But that girl, though. It was almost worth it.

What was _not_ almost worth it was that grimy, foul-smelling little _thing_ they called a _Nobby_. She could have ripped his head off his shoulders when she caught wind of his (ghastly, just like the rest of him) _relationship decisions_ (such as they could be called). Yes, fine, so the way to some men’s hearts was through their stomach, and granted, she had seen worse men (as in worse mentally, not physically; in that department Nobby was in a league all of his own), but that didn’t mean snivelling little wretches got to break the hearts of gorgeous, sweet, insecure pole-dancing _angels_.

She breathed heavily. Perhaps she was overdoing it. Perhaps this was on overreaction. Tawneee had surely coped well enough; after the night out they gave her before Koom Valley Day hopefully _something_ had permeated that thick, beautiful skull of hers... then again that was perhaps optimistic.

She sighed heavily and flung herself onto her lidless coffin, groaning. She was going to have to go and see her, wasn’t she? _Well, Corporal Nobbs, I may very well owe you one before the day is out._

Sally picked herself up and left, taking care that nothing untoward happened the door on her way.

***

All was not well at the Pink PussyCat Club. The proprietor was trying her hardest to remove the sobbing mass that had previously been one of the most attractive girls in Ankh-Morpork, never mind in her establishment, from the edge of the stage. It was putting the other girls off their stride.

“Come on, dear, he wasn’t all that,” she said for the twelfth time, rolling her eyes, by this point reduced to trying to physically drag Tawneee from her position clutching at the stairs and by turns hiccupping and bawling. It transpires, however, that a girl who spends her life clinging to a pole in various positions is actually surprisingly hard to remove from anywhere, especially when you yourself are a lady who has not had to worry about such things as poles for over twenty years.

Her heart breaking as she said it, she tried the infallible Ankh-Morpork tactic of persuasion. “If you move to the bar, you can drink as much as you want. Forget all about him, eh?”

This did not have the desired effect and the sobbing increased tenfold. By now the tableau was beginning to put off the _customers_ as well, and this simply would not do. Just as she had resolved to tell the troll bouncer to lay her out, the door banged open, slamming back on its hinges as wind and rain howled into the brightly lit, warm room.

Well, how else are you supposed to enter a premises when you’re a vampire? Drama is part of the package.

The package approached the sorry scene with confidence oozing from every pore. _Ah. Not coping so well, then. Thankfully, I have the cure._ Sally reasoned that the girl had never been _near_ a man before Nobby, and he hardly even counted! She could be interested in _anything_. So: unbreak her heart with a lover who could literally love her forever. Perfect.

She knelt down in front of the sobbing woman and pried her hands away from her face. They snapped back as if magnetized, but not before she caught a glimpse of what was underneath. Ugh, even when she had been crying for what looked like hours from the madam’s expression, she was still stunning.

“Tawneee, dear?” she tried, unsuccessfully, a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

The proprietor _tsk_ ed. “I’ve been trying that for ages, missy, it won’t work. Who’re you then, some friend?” she asked belatedly.

“You could... say that,” replied Sally calmly. “We have a mutual acquaintance.”

She got a _hmph_ for her troubles. “Just get her away from the stage, will you? People are _leaving_.”

Sally sighed. Well, talking wasn’t helping; that had been tried. Option two, then. “Stand back, you lot,” she said to the men crowding round.

They didn’t move. “I _said_ , stand _back_ ,” she snarled, with just a hint of fang where the proprietor couldn’t see it.

The obstruction suddenly vanished. “Thank you,” she said to the empty air, then picked Tawneee up as if she were weightless and carried her to one of the booth tables around the edge of the room, where she set her down. The crying did not abate for one second, but the madam seemed happy enough with the new situation, from the approving nod Sally received.

She went over to the bar and ordered the most alcoholic thing she could see (for Tawneee) and a pint of beer for herself. She wasn’t sure she could face heavy liquor yet after that Girls’ Night Out.

When she was handed the drinks, she was delighted to see that Tawneee’s was a violent blue colour and glowed a little under the lights with perfect little swirls. Hopefully it was pretty enough to distract her slightly from crying.

When she plonked the two glasses on the table, Tawneee, who had had her head on it, looked up with a confused air in her perfect, red-rimmed eyes. She was still hiccupping a bit, and the occasional tear worked its way down her flawless face, but the sight of the fluorescent beverage brought a smile to her face for a brief moment. Then the tears started again in earnest.

Sally sighed. This might be a long night. Bloody men.

***

Sally realised, almost an hour later, as the girl calmed down enough to drink the glittery thing in front of her without spraying it everywhere, that there had been a fatal flaw in this plan from the start. She swallowed and tried to direct her eyes away from the heaving bosoms in front of her, humming something vaguely religious-sounding under her breath and twitching a little around the eyes.

It was as she dug her fingernails into her palms that she realised she wasn’t going to manage without outside help.

“Be right back, darling,” she croaked, before darting away from the table and up to the bar.

She returned with a lemon firmly clamped in her mouth, the bar being rather devoid of such things as apples or turnips. Her attempt to give a reassuring smile, then, fell understandably flat; she probably just looked confusingly worried. Nowhere _near_ as prettily as Tawneee though, who looked up at the vampire with wide brown eyes and the tiniest and most delicate of creases across her brow.

“Are you all right, Sally?” she asked, concern radiating from her every feature.

Sally forced a laugh around the lemon and then prised it free for the time being (she was certain it would be of use later).

“Absolutely, my dear! Of course. Yes. You know how a girl sometimes gets these... aha... _urges._ Sometimes I just really _crave_ a good lemon.” She licked her lips and prayed the pretty little thing was dense enough to buy it.

The gods were clearly listening. Tawneee nodded feverishly and smiled again. “I get the same kind of thing with peaches, sometimes! You know, like a really _nice_ soft peach where the juices run down your chin and it’s _just_ sweet enough...” Sally made a strangled noise and focussed all her brainpower on her valiant struggle to keep her eyes north.

“Yes, Tawneee,” she managed, trying to keep her mind on the agenda, “It’s nice to know we girls have something in common.”

Tawneee came very close to fluttering her eyelashes and took another sip of her drink.

“Thank you for looking after me, Sally,” she said after a while. “I’ve just been so... _down_ after Nobby said he was through. I mean,” tears welled in her eyes again, and Sally took the chance to grab her free hand reassuringly, “I thought maybe someone _did_ find me attractive after all, and after you three had shown me all those other men at that pub we went to I began to think maybe I’ve just been around the wrong men! But,” she hiccoughed, “I just don’t know any more. I don’t think I want a boyfriend if they’re all going to be like that.” Her perfect lower lip wobbled.

 _Bingo_ , thought Sally, before dropping the truth of the matter on the table. “Tawneee, darling, this is Ankh-Morpork. We are living in the Year of the Dancing Lemur. Men aren’t _all that_. There’s plenty of women who would be perfectly happy to look after you the way you deserve.” _Like me_.

Tawneee’s mouth dropped open, the tears stopping again like a faucet. “What, like... women who’d go and see the Pink PussyCats? Like... like the opposite of the Blue Cat Club? I didn’t know they _existed_!”

 _Well_ then... she’d cottoned on faster than Sally had expected, given her normal cerebral capacity. The existence of the Blue Cat Club had clearly helped; she’d have to send Mr Harris a bottle of someone’s best vintage just for opening the place.

While all this was flitting through her head, she smiled at Tawneee in a friendly fashion and captured her other hand in hers too. “Well, it makes sense, doesn’t it? Who is going to appreciate the female form better than another woman, after all?”

It was as though a light had just switched on in Tawneee’s head. “You’re right, Sally! Of _course_ you’re right! That makes perfect sense! Oh, I could... I could... um...” She tailed off and buried her pretty little nose into the noxious blue drink in front of her, her ears turning scarlet.

Sally smiled almost fondly while the girl’s attention was elsewhere. She had definitely been about to say “kiss you”. By _all_ narrative convention, the way in which that sentence ended was with the words “kiss you”. Sally’s heart fluttered a little (funny how, even though vampires don’t need things such as hearts any more, they still turn up to do their job when narrativium requires it).

Then she remembered that part of the reason for the embarrassment was that Tawneee had probably never kissed anyone in her life (certainly, she hoped she had not kissed Nobby; that would be a taste that would linger), and once again adjusted her plans.

“Tawneee,” she said to the other, now fully engrossed in her drink, “I know a place near here that’s a bit cosier, a bit less... loud? It’s called the Comfy Chairs, for... obvious reasons.”* She got a curious, questioning look in response and elaborated. “They have comfy chairs. And fancy drinks.” She smiled in what she knew was a winning fashion, squeezing the hand she had retained gently.

Tawneee bit her lip in a manner which seemed _designed_ to cause Sally respiratory issues. Honestly, _how_ was the girl so unaware? Then she smiled brightly and clambered off the pew, hand still in the vampire’s. “All right,” she said.

***

It wasn’t much past ten by the time they reached the cafe, which stayed open all hours. Sally pushed the door open and guided the girl in with her. Tawneee hadn’t let go of her hand the whole way, and Sally was inclined to take it as a sign.

She nodded to Jemina, the girl on duty, and headed to the back of the establishment (as everyone knows, they keep the best seats at the back of any cafe, just to trick the casual visitor). They plonked themselves down in a two-seater sofa with rather a lot of seat, and Sally turned to her companion. She still hadn’t released her hand.

“What do you feel like to drink? They do anything here – even little cakes, and rat and things. Basically cater to everyone.” _Except vampires_ , she added wryly in her head.

“Oh! Um... something pink and sparkly?” Tawneee offered with a small smile. “Only... here, let me give you money for it, you bought everything so far...” She started fishing in her tiny bag, before Sally smartly took it off her and placed it on the table, smiling.

“My treat, dear. You deserve it. You’ve had a dreadful time with that _awful_ _man_.” She allowed a little more disdain that was strictly necessary to enter her voice, and just for good measure gave the brunette head a soft kiss as she got up to order.

 _Gods_ , _the woman even_ smelled _amazing... there should be a law against allowing people to be_ that _attractive. Why didn’t Vetinari sort that out instead of... whatever he was currently doing? It was_ dangerous _._

Sally came back with a large orange (for emergencies) and a tall milkshake glass full of something Pink And Sparkly, as ordered, with added rainbow sprinkles and a little flamingo cocktail stick in it. Tawneee’s eyes lit up with delight and Sally’s heart melted in an instant. _Gods, to have her look at me like that..._

“This is a bit nicer, isn’t it?” she said to the other, settling herself next to her on the sofa perhaps a little closer than strictly necessary.

Tawneee nodded and smiled into her drink.

Well, thought Sally, given that Nobby Nobbs had been her predecessor, the way to this girl’s heart was clearly to make her laugh. No problem; Sally had fifty years of bawdy anecdotes and amusing tidbits to keep the pretty thing entertained. She realised somewhat belatedly that she rather desperately _wanted_ to keep her entertained instead of just demonstrating that women as an option existed. The thought of Tawneee going off with some other girl almost turned her stomach.

 _Here goes nothing_ , she thought drily, and wet her lips.

***

Three drinks apiece later (Sally had finally given up and gone back to cocktails in sheer desperation), the pair were considerably closer. Both mentally and ah... physically. Tawneee had dainty legs draped across Sally’s lap, the vampire’s arm was wrapped around the girl, and the couple were so close that someone sitting on the arm of the sofa couldn’t have heard what they were talking about.

Tawneee laughed at something Sally had said and hid her smile in her drink (a habit which Sally had very quickly noticed due to the nicely exposed throat, and one which had grown on her considerably over the course of the night). Sally took a chance and pressed a quick kiss to her damask cheek, which quickly flushed scarlet.

That didn’t stop the kissee from turning ninety degrees and planting one on Sally’s shocked, unresisting mouth. And then some. And _hell_ , where had this little angel learned to kiss like that? Sally would have to revise her previous assumptions regarding kissing, etc. (Thankfully, it hadn’t been Nobby she had been practicing on; her kisses tasting of something that certainly wasn’t dredged up from the gutter.)

When the pair broke apart (Tawneee still blushing redder than a sunset in Grune), the dancer looked down at her knees and said awkwardly, “I hope that wasn’t awful.” Sally’s jaw dropped open as she continued, “I’ve never... kissed anyone before. Was it all right?”

Sally made a noise something akin to what the flamingo in Tawneee’s drink might have made, had it been alive, and revised her previous revision of the girl’s experience. She managed a strangled, “Yes, dear, it was... _all right_ ,” before downing the rest of her own drink to give her something to focus on that wasn’t an expanse of very appealing, heaving flesh. Tawneee’s heart was beating ten to the dozen and Sally was having a dreadful time trying to block it out from so close by.

The part of her brain which was half-coherent was busy being _furious_ that _anyone_ had the _nerve_ to kiss so well on their first go... if it had been anyone else she would have assumed they were just lying, but she didn’t think Tawneee was capable. Not to mention the heart rate was something of a giveaway.

 _And_ she was biting her lip again, looking beautifully distressed. “Um... Sally... do you think we could... um...” she swallowed and giggled a bit, “try that again? For... practice?”

Sally swallowed the _Absolutely_ which immediately rose to her lips, conscious of the fact that if much more of that behaviour went on she wouldn’t be able to stop herself climbing into the girl’s lap. Which was itself fine, they weren’t bothered about that sort of thing, it was past midnight and the place bordered a _bar_ , for heaven’s sake, but it was what came... after laps that she was afraid of. In short, she didn’t trust herself near her.

She paused a second too long before trying to convey this, however, because the light dimmed in Tawneee’s eyes and she averted her eyes towards the floor. “That’s ok,” she began, “I know I’m not really... good enough at any of thi-”

“Nooooo, nonono, no _No_ ,” Sally interrupted emphatically. “That is _absolutely not_ the issue here – ah, I don’t suppose you would care to accompany me home? Or rather,” she corrected herself quickly, thinking of her own sleeping arrangements, “If you were all right with that we may have to go to yours, I... can’t have guests.”

“Oh,” was the faintly puzzled response. “Well, all right, I suppose it is late, they must be closing up soon.” As if to punctuate her sentence, she yawned. “I’d like it if you came back with me. You’re so kind, and so funny... and really I am falling asleep in here already, so we may as well do it on a bed!”

Sally inhaled a significant quantity of alcohol up her nose, choking on the lurid green thing she was drinking, and wheezed her way through the next two minutes of unlife as Tawneee patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Good idea, darling,” she eventually managed to force out. “That’s a fine point. Good idea.”

***

Tawneee’s rooms were on the same street as the Club, it transpired – the building next door on the third floor. Inside they were much like Sally’s own – bare boards, a single window, some kind of net that passed for curtains, and a large and heavy wardrobe, complemented on the far wall by a small and rickety bed. Well, as far as humans were concerned it was better than a coffin.

The alcohol had had ample time to make its way through the systems of both women now, and they were rather less in control of their limbs than they had been while sitting down. They collapsed in a tangled mess on the bed, which groaned, as old bedsprings are wont to do. Sally mentally added “buy a bed” to her list of things to do with her Watch pay when it came in. This would _not_ do long-term.

Tawneee hadn’t stopped sneaking small kisses the whole way back to hers, and she certainly wasn’t about to stop now that they had reached somewhere (relatively) stationary. The alcohol soon took its toll though, and her eyelids began to droop, her head getting closer to Sally’s shoulder the longer they lounged there.

“Don’t go,” she murmured fuzzily. Sally manoeuvred them further down the bed and wrapped an arm around her protectively, tucking the brunette’s head under her chin.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” she replied, watching the human drift off to sleep in her arms.

 _Thank you, Corporal Nobbs_.

 

 

*The Comfy Chairs was a cafe which bordered onto, and was owned by, Ankh-Morpork’s pre-eminent gay bar, and was beloved by those who preferred being able to hear their partner speak, with all the benefits of such things as squashy seating and romantic lighting. And the occasional pampered cat. And little cakes on certain days of the week.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d like to just point out that the reason Vetinari hasn’t outlawed being too pretty is clearly because he would lose his part-time secretary, full-time lover, and he’s not daft.  
> P.S. I absolutely adore comments if you have time! ^^


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